When the River Rises

When the River Rises

Chapter1

Her long black braids moved restlessly over her chest as she bolted up from her reed mat and looked around the smoke filled hut, her horsehair blanket falling down around her waist.

This was her winter lodging. All was familiar, yet there was an energy in the air that stirred a feeling of foreboding; a warning that echoed in her mind from the night dream she had. It was too faint to capture, but too near to not feel apprehension.

Dark brown eyes darted about the area. The familiar lumps, made from her brothers forms huddled next to each other, occupied the far corner of the room. Her sisters were lined up beside each other at the opposite corner from her brothers. Her parents, arms wrapped around each other in a quiet embrace, were on the far side of the cramped room where they could watch all the children and anyone coming or going from the hut.

Lying back down, she listened to the hushed noises made by her mother and father as they enjoyed the company of each other’s arms and bodies.

Being the oldest, she had often awakened to hear the sounds of their lovemaking. Laying awake, listening, feeling awe at the sounds, and conjuring up the pictures of them and trying to feel what it must be like to have hands touching herself as they were each other. Her reveries seemed to fill many nights.

She could not ask about the wonderings of coupling: she did not want to be disrespectful. She did, however, know of such things. She had witnessed the horses as they created the foals that would come in the spring. She had witnessed the deer, in the woods, and in their food plots, as they too created the fawns that would appear when the short days ended and the long days began.

The long days were her favorite. The birds shadows on the ground as they hovered above, searching for their prey, and waking up the morning.

The sounds of the grey squirrel as they chattered in the trees, sometimes scolding her for getting too close to their nests, and the small animals, identical to the old ones, but much smaller: all were the sights of the long days to come and the yellow ball in the sky to give forth its healing warmth.

She settled back and closed her eyes, willing sleep to once again overtake her, but it was not to be. The sounds of the camp stirring, forcing her to yawn loudly to attract her mother and father’s attention, so she could leave the hut and make her way to the woods to relieve herself.

Her parents glanced over to her and she heard her mother giggle: thinking how fortunate they were to have finished their coupling before she had awakened. They continued their quiet chatter as she heard more than saw, her father scuttling around for his rawhide breeches. Her mother was quietly pulling her deer skin dress over her head, hiding her nakedness from the children, but allowing her husband a look at the woman that was his.

Darkness still hovered and it was possible for Little Snake to hide the warmth and ashy red of her cheeks so her parents would not know of what she thought, saw and heard.

She felt a kick to her foot. “It is time to break the fast, my little princess.”

Her mother walked on by and out the door, careful to tuck the hides in to keep the cold of the morning air outside and not indoors.

Pulling herself up, she slid on her moccasins, slipped her fur robes over her head and headed out to help her mother prepare the morning meal.

Carefully peeling the onions she had harvested earlier that season, she added them to the pot of cornmeal. Her father poured boiling water from the fire and she watched the steam rise as it hit the bottom of the big earthen pot.

Her mother nodded her approval at the preparations she was taking and she felt a surge of pride.

Running Deer walked to the animal pen and began to milk the cow and the goat. She would have enough milk to feed the whole tribe by the time she was done.

They shared everything. No man, woman, or child, went without food or shelter. Everyone worked together, ate together, and lived together in harmony.

Fights occasionally occurred between brothers, but the chief would quickly nip it. “A strong tribe is only as strong as their weaknesses.” He would sagely state. “If we fight amongst ourselves, we create a weakness for others to chip at”, “We must remain strong. We must remain as one.”

He was a man of few words, but all were spoken with authority and his word was always final.

Her eyes rose as he made his way from his hut. His three wives followed closely behind.

The youngest was no older than she. ‘How can she be with the wrinkled old man of few words?’ She mused as she stared at the raven hair and blue eyes that bespoke of her mother’s indiscretion with a passing white man.

Everyone knew of her shame. He was passing through the village with pots and pans that the white man had made. He traded for their furs and hides. He traded for the beautiful jewelry they made. He sometimes traded for the ‘honor’ of spending the night in the warm arms of one of the women.

She looked around and cringed. Please never let me be a trade for a simple pot or pan. I want to be for my husband only.

The second woman to come out of the hut was a slightly older woman.

Her breasts were large and heavy; their weight so great as to not be able to stand alone. She would often snicker when one of the randier men, which was most of the unmarried men, would come up behind her and put his hands around and under them. Both would be looking around to make sure the chief was not in sight. Sometimes they would even run to the woods together. She would come back and explain how she needed to attend to her personal duties.

The third woman was broad of nose with a flattened face. Her eyes did not focus as she moved forward and was often seen sprawling in the dirt as she tripped over small rocks or sticks.

The men were known to hide a laugh, but most of the woman would laugh openly and point. Her mother had never done so and the two women had become friends.

“Little Snake. Come. The elders are hungry and need to break fast so the little ones can also break fast.”

She ran to the pot, grabbed a piece of hide and lifted the heavy crockery from the fire.

Slowly, she made her way to the chief and settled it in the middle of the circle where he, her father, and several other men sat awaiting her arrival.

They dipped the heavy wooden ladle into the pot, dumping it into their wooden bowls which her brothers had painstakingly hollowed out and formed from the trees that had dropped when the winds blew as the days were going short.

They blessed the trees and thanked them for their gift of supplies.

Little Snake bowed her head in deference to the chief as he ladled his gruel and waited to be dismissed. He grinned at her then leaned forward to whisper to her father.

She saw her father look up sharply and take in her form and her face. He shook his head and she could hear him spit out, “No!”

The chief said something more and her father laid down his bowl and left the circle. He came to her, took her arm, and led her to the river.

Little Snake stared out at the frozen water and wished she had brought her other moccasins. The ones that were shiny on the bottom and although they kept her feet safe from the frozen ground, they also gave her the ability to float around on the frozen water. “It is a child’s game, my daughter. You will not be a child much longer.”

Little Snake looked at her father. She was silently counting on her fingers, the amount of seasons she had been on this earth. ‘Thirteen. I am but thirteen seasons.’ She thought to herself. She had not even come into her woman’s time yet. How was she not a child?

Her father grabbed her arm. She felt the sting of his fingers as he gripped her. “I have a difficult task to bequeath to you, Little Snake.” He swallowed hard and she felt fear of what he was to say.

Suddenly, the haunting of a dream came to her. Could it be her spirit guide trying to tell her something? Was it possible they were warning her of what was to come? She shivered.

“I am sorry my daughter. I did not mean to harm you.” He let go of her arm.

“The chief has asked a difficult thing of me. Now I must ask you the same.”

His hand shook and his eyes were darting. “Morning Dove is getting too old to bear children. Her woman’s time is coming to an end. Her eyes are unseeing.”

He stared into her eyes. “Please tell me you understand what I am saying.”

“No. Father. I do not understand. What does Morning Dove have to do with me?”

She thought of the woman her mother had befriended. The slow movements as she walked across camp, and the deliberate steps she took as she picked her way across the terrain, belied her feebleness.

“She is not much older than mother.”

“She is not. She has been given a different kind of station in life.” He stated, squaring his jaw and gritting his teeth. “You must listen! You must behave as a woman! Listen with a woman’s ears! See with a woman’s eyes!” Big Bear had turned her around, and with his hands on her shoulders, he stared into her eyes, willing her to understand.

The thought her father was projecting into her made her stomach feel sick. She was glad she had not eaten yet, or her stomach would be spilling onto the frozen water and heavy tree limbs that hung low from their burden of fresh snow.

“No father. I cannot. I will not.”

“You can and you will. It is an honor and a duty.”

“No. I will not lie with a man whose face looks like the grizzled hides we wear. A man whose breath smells of the tallow that has sat in pots all through the long days and is no longer good to cook with, but must be used for heat. A man whose hair hangs heavy with streaks of white and layers of grease. A man, whose body lies unwashed for days and nights, then waits for the women in his hut to cleanse him, and then attend to his needs.”

“Enough, daughter.” He turned his back to her and crossed his arms.

“I know what they do father. I have heard the sounds of stomach upheaval after they have serviced him with their mouths.”

Her father shook her. “Enough, I say.” His words were little more than a whisper. He knew every word she spoke was truth and it caused pain in his heart to send her to this fate, but the chief had spoken.

Little Snake jumped up and ran. Her body quickly disappeared into the heavy wooded area that surrounded the camp, but he could hear her cries.

The sorrow that invaded his heart was a physical pain and he clutched his chest before raising his head and following her footsteps.

Her small frame was hunched over behind the tree he had once built a tree house in for her and her siblings.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “It was not a request. It was a summons from the chief. I cannot deny his words if he has made up his mind.”

“Can’t I just tell him no?”

“We cannot. Now, you must straighten your shoulders, dry the tears and be the woman you are meant to be.” He looked down at her from his full height of six feet and six. “You will be a princess one day. You must behave as such.”

Little Snake pulled herself up and squared her narrow shoulders. “It is my duty. I must do what I must do.”

Her head was raised regally as she walked beside her father. She did not follow as she normally would, but walked side by side with him, her eyes straight ahead as they reentered the camp.

Her father nodded to her mother, and she saw her mother’s hand go to her mouth and a sorrow reach her eyes. She knew.

“I am ready to learn, mother.”

Her father made all the arrangement. The wedding was to take place in two moons. Together, she worked with her mother to make her wedding dress. Sun whitened deer hide was stitched together with small strings of matching hide. Other strings were threaded into small colored rocks and pieces of mineral and dyed bones, and then attached to the dress. Her head dress was made of the same deer hide, and then adorned with yellow feathers from the salad bird and brightly colored feathers of the red bird, sky blue feathers of the jaybird, and deep dark feathers of the crow.

Her dress was complete; embodying the symbols of the earth. The spirit of abundance was represented by the sow’s ear that was used to hold her herbs. The spirit of swiftness was represented by the small pompoms of rabbit fur that adorned the bottom of her head dress. The spirit of strength and courage was in the fur of her wolf skin. The spirit of wisdom was embodied in the owl feathers she wore in her necklace.

Her head was high and no tears were shed since the day she had been told of her plight by her father. She was a woman.

The dancing had begun. Songs were being sung. The feast was prepared. It was her wedding day.

She looked at Morning Dove and felt sadness for the woman who was the Chiefs first wife. She was now to live in a hut with all the other old women, kept only to be the workhorses of the tribe. They were the ones who would do the chores no one else would do. They would gnaw at the skins, till their teeth were no more, to make them soft and supple. They would sew the skins till their fingers no longer moved. They would tend to the women’s hut, where they would go when their monthly time came along, cleaning the floors, covering them with fresh grass and putting the soiled onto the fires.

That would be her lot one day. Inwardly she cried. Outwardly she appeared calm and the princess she would one day become. Her father had told her this.

Chapter 2

Big Bear pulled his wife close. He nuzzled her ear and his hand closed around her breasts. She was thirty summers yet still looked like the day they had married nearly fifteen summers ago.

Her body still made him hard and rigid and he felt that hardness forming as he felt her softly rounded bottom begin to move against his throbbing manhood.

He felt like a young boy, ready to sink himself into the warm wetness of any squaw willing to raise her leather over her head and show him her hidden female treasures.

His hand lazily wandered down over the belly that was now exposed to his anxious fingers. He pressed into the welcoming warmth of her; moistness coating him and her scent reaching his nostrils, making him even harder and less able to wait much longer.

He whispered in her ear. “I want to mount you like the great stud in the woods with his doe.”

She pushed back tighter against him and nodded.

“And if we make another child?”

She rubbed up against him in silent permission.

His hand rubbed along her moist crevice, sliding into the deep inner part of her, spreading her with his fingers as he bent her forward and slid deep into the object of his attention. He felt her nipples harden in the palm of his hands as he released her cleft and began to pleasure her as well as himself.

She moaned softly and he pressed harder and faster. Her dress no longer on her body, but on the floor beside them, his clothes on the heap, and he taking his place as he flipped her over and laid his body on top of hers.

His head flew back and his mouth opened in a silent scream as his release came quickly.

She looked around and spied Little Snake. The dark threw its curtain around them, but she knew the girl was listening to them, and was wondering if she could see them, and knew what was happening.

One room for all of them was not big enough to keep the children from understanding the ways of lovemaking. This was the life they were given.

He dismounted her and slid down beside her as she handed him his own skins then pulled her dress over her head.

He watched her breasts as they disappeared, then continued to watch as it slid down to cover her moistness which had become his place of comfort. He felt sad.

Making his way outside and to the hut of the chief, he let his smile slip away and became stone faced. The chief greeted him warmly, grasping his forearm in greeting.

He looked over and saw his wife and daughter preparing for the breakfast time. Pride was expressed on his face.

“She is a beauty.”

Big Bear looked at the chief then to where the chief’s gaze was directed.

His hand was clenched. “She is young. Not quite thirteen summers.”

“You married at fifteen summers. Running Deer was but fourteen summers. Morning Dove was just thirteen summers when we married.”

Big Bear did a quick calculation as he looked at Morning Dove. He knew how many summers the chief was. He remembered when he took Morning Dove for his wife. She was not more than his own wife and yet she looked like his own mother.

“She is too young. No.”

The old man spoke like he had not heard the younger man. “Morning Dove is getting old. She can no longer give me sons. Her moist woman parts are now more like the dust of the long days. Her usefulness is done.”

Big Bear had the urge to rock back on his heels and cry out to the spirits as the old man spoke.

“I will honor you and take her as my wife. She will come to me in two moons.”

Big Bear jumped up and moved away from the circle. He felt the pain in his chest as he walked to his wife’s side. Pulling her aside, he hurriedly told her of the chief’s order.

Her eyes grew wide and held unshed tears. Her head shook in silent denial. “I cannot let her go to him.”

“We must.”

“I cannot. He is old. He will destroy her spirit.”

Big Bear looked over to where Little Snake stood tending to the gruel. His eyes sad and warring with the pain in his heart. He wanted to grab her and hide her away, but his duty and allegiance to the chief and tribe would not allow him.

Walking over to her and grabbed her arm, beckoning her to follow him.

He thought of how he was going to tell her. He didn’t know if he should ask or demand. She would do what he requested of her. She was a good daughter. How did he make this request?

As he talked, he once again felt the familiar pain in his chest that happened whenever he was angry or upset. The anger was not with her.

When she ran, he ran after her, his breathing becoming shallow in the cold morning air.

“You must listen to me.”

“No, father. I cannot.”

Her words of the old man cut deep as he realized how she felt, but he was unable to assuage her fears.

“This is your duty.”

He saw the princess she would be one day as she raised her head and lowered her shoulders. Her head was up to his chin and he looked at the shining mane that housed the light of the day as she walked beside him.

“I will do what I am asked by you.”

He barely contained the tears as she walked with him back to the camp. It was sad tears he would not and could not shed in front of her. They would be saved for when he was with his wife later that night.

He nodded to his wife as he passed. Little Snake took up her place with the women, leaving the children and her siblings behind without a glance or word of explanation.

He worked next to them to arrange for the wedding. He hunted with the men to bring fresh meat to the festive occasion. The women dug in the frozen ground for potatoes left over from harvest, carrots blanketed with the snow to keep them from freezing, and dried maze.

He feared when he had not heard another word spoken to him from his daughter’s mouth.

He was saddened at the loss of the carefree laughter he had not heard since he had told her about her future.

He felt like the spirits had taken her and hidden her someplace, leaving her shell behind.

He prayed to the spirit guides to come to him with answers and to stay with her as she took on her new duties in the village.

The day of the wedding loomed closer and he began to once again feel the pang of anxiousness and the painful chest it created.

He awoke early in the morning and reached for his wife and could not move his arm to wrap around her. It was difficult to utter a sound, but she must have sensed his distress.

She rolled toward him and put her hands to his cheeks. He was cold and his lips were the color of the sky right before the rain fell from the sky, and she screamed.

Black Cloud, the shaman, arrived. His smoke, pungent and burning the eyes, encircled her father’s chest. He chanted words to the air and shook his stick. The gourd was filled with seeds, and dried herbs, and was shaken around her father as he paced and danced.

He could hear the singing as if it came from outside and knew what was happening. They were songs for the dead; loud and shrill, and guiding the spirit to its final resting place on this earth and on to the spirit skies. He was not afraid, but he was not ready.

He thought of the beautiful land that lay at the foot of the rocks. It was flat and green; fertile with trees and set on the side of the mountain that was their home.

The sacred burial grounds that were for the brave and the leaders; he would be placed there. No one would ever desecrate the ground. For many moons to come, for many seasons to come, they would be revered and untouched. This was to be his home for all of time.

He would hunt the deer in the spirit life. He would find peace and watch over his family, guiding them to their own spirit life when it came time. He would lead them to their spirit guide.

He closed his eyes and allowed the spirits to encircle him and guide him to his destiny.

Chapter 3

Little Snake awoke, aware of the strangeness of the air in the room. She felt a hand guiding her from dream to waking and followed its lead.

She could still smell the forest she had been walking in, feel the trees as they brushed her arms, and hear the rushing of the water that had invaded her dreams.

She held her breath as she looked around and heard her father’s labored breathing and her mother’s cries.

She jumped up from her bed and walked over to them, squatting to hear and see what was happening.

She laid her hand on her mother’s arm causing her to jump and nearly fall over her from her hunched position.

Her dark eyes were wide and filled with fear as she looked up into her daughter’s eyes. “His spirit is leaving his body.”

Little Snake nodded, rose and woke the other children. She led them outside to give her mother a final last moment with her father.

Several moments later, she could hear the wail of her mother as she chanted over her husband’s dead body. Her body ached from the tears she wanted to shed and couldn’t.

She walked to the river. The long days were beginning. The frozen river was running free, and the water sang to her as it splashed against the rocks.

She bent her head to listen to the sounds and jumped back as it hid a note of discord. She had not heard this sound before. It was low and dangerous in sound. The water was talking to her.

As she listened, the sounds became voices. They told of her father’s death. They told of the pain she was soon to bear and her mother’s pain. They told her of the danger that was lurking within the trees.

The sound of a twig snapping behind her pulled her from the spirit of the river. She already knew her spirit guide was of the river and did not fear it, but was quick to heed its warning.

She turned, unsheathing her knife as she moved.

The young white man that stood behind her, stopped. He stared at her. He had never seen an Indian girl before.

She heard the noises he made, but was unable to understand his strange language, but she knew he was not going to hurt her.

Her instincts carried her to his side and she placed her hand on his cheek.

The softness of his skin was curious to her touch and the bristles on his chin made her laugh. “My father does not have the itchy face.” She said in her own tongue. The young man stared at her.

Sensing he did not understand, she took his hand and smoothed it over her own cheek, then his. He seemed to understand what she was saying to him.

He stared at her burnished skin, the blue black of her hair, and her dark brown eyes, marveling at the beauty of the creature in front of him.

She couldn’t be any older than he was but she was so much prettier than the girls he knew.

“I’m fifteen.” He held out his hand to her and she grasped his forearm in greeting. He smiled. “My name is Billie.”

“Bill-lee.” She pulled his name out as she said it. Her voice was soft and reminded him of a song bird.

“Billie.”

She heard the river behind her, her mother’s cries in the background, and her mind was filled with the turmoil of her wedding on the morrow.

She didn’t know why, and didn’t think about it, but put her hand on his neck and pulled him to her.

She moved her lips to join his as she had seen her father and mother do. She tasted the venison on his lips and the sweetness of honey. He didn’t touch her back, at first, and then he stepped closer. His lips opened and took her mouth. He gently pushed her lips apart and began to taste the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

She moved back and looked down. She felt the hardness being pressed into her and wanted to see what it was. She didn’t know what she would see but she hadn’t expected this long snake like protrusion that had his pants tenting in front of him.

She reached down and tapped it with her fingers, laughing at how it sprang back up.

She looked up to see him looking down at her. He began to reach into his pants and she turned and ran away from him.

He started to give chase then thought of the warnings his grandmother had always shouted after him. “Them injuns will scalp ya if ya git too near one. Ya hear me boy? Yer hair’ll be a swingin’ from one of ems belt.”

He stood and watched till she disappeared then headed back toward the village that was at the foot of the mountain he had been warned not to go near.

He had wandered too far from his small town on the other side of the mountain. It wasn’t until the sun rose again that he realized just how far. It was going to take all day and another night alone in the woods till he would be back within sight of his home.

Little Snake ran back to the hut. Her father was being washed and prepared for the burial. The men were shouting and singing while dancing around the fire. Her mother was chanting the prayers of a grieving wife.

The chief walked up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “The marriage will be postponed till your uncle is here. Four, maybe five sunsets.”

As the sun climbed high in the sky, she heard the sound of horses arriving from the north village. Brave Eagle sat tall and proud in his saddle.

He walked up to her mother and talked quietly to Little Snakes’ mother. The chief joined them.

Her mother was shaking her head and her uncle was gesticulating with his hands. All seemed angry.

Walking behind the hut, she looked around and, seeing no one, walked out to the river, hoping to see the young white man.

She knew they were dangerous. She had heard stories of how they had attacked villages and killed even the women and children, but Bill-lee did not seem frightening to her.

She could feel his tongue in her mouth and thought of the sweet taste of him. The chief will never taste that nice. She thought to herself.

The chief won’t feel so soft beneath my fingers, and he won’t have the hardness to press against her that Bill-lee had.

A chill ran up her spine. The trees weren’t moving. There was no wind. The spirit guides were trying to warn her but she wasn’t listening. This time she wanted to ignore them and do what made her feel good, not what was for the good of the tribe, or what the chief declared.

Chapter 4

The wind howled that night. It was the howl of a lone wolf and she was awakened, sweating, pain in her stomach and feeling the chill of early morning. “Mother.” She whispered. Her fear sounded in each syllable.

Her mother rose quickly and went to Little Snake. The gentleness of her hand on her forehead, soothed, but did not ease the pain.

“Where does it hurt, daughter?”

She pointed to her stomach.

“My child, you are coming into your woman hood.”

Quietly she led Little Snake to the hut where she would spend the next three days.

Lying on the mat in the hut, Little Snake listened to the roar of the wind. The sides of the tiny hut were shaking and swirls of dust were surrounding her. The day sky was almost as black as the night and she shivered.

The long days were now upon them. In a few days her father would be in the spirit land, her mother would be with Brave Eagle, and her brothers and sisters would join them in their small village to the north.

She had been within these walls for three days now and was anxious to leave and escape the smells that burned her nostril and eyes.

She wanted to run to the river and hear its song and maybe see Bill-lee again.

She had thought often of Bill-lee while alone.

The way his tongue had entered her mouth amazed her. She had thought it should have been an unpleasant thing, but she found herself wanting to do it again.

‘Is this what Chief Big Waters would do with her when she became his?’

She thought about it and shivered with revulsion.

His weathered skin was going to be hard, not soft like Bill-lee.

Would his man part be like Bill-lee; or, would he have the snake that crawls low, hiding in the grass. Little Snake laughed at her vision of a snake peeking out from under his loin cloth then sliding back under.

Her skin crawled at the thought and the fear she was feeling as the wind talked.

Morning Dove entered the hut. She looked at Little Snake between the legs, handed her a bucket of water and ordered her to wash. She then looked at her again. “It is time to go.”

Little Snake eagerly left the hut. Her first instinct was to go to the river and wash, but the sky spirit was angry. Light flashed in the sky. Its roars made the ground shake. The rain came rushing down on her. She was being cleansed by the sky’s tears.

Drenched and in need of dry clothing, she ran back to her own hut. Her mother was sitting in the corner with Big Bears robes wrapped around her.

“I am to be wed to Brave Eagle at the rise of the new moon. Three days from now. The young ones will go with me, but you must stay.”

“I will go with you too.”

“No! You must stay and wed. It is your duty, your honor.”

“I will not wed old leather face. I will not.”

Her mother glanced at her and continued packing her belongings for the long trip to the north.

The subject of Little Snake remaining behind was closed.

Three days later she was gone. It had been less than a full moon, since her father had left the earth, yet already her mother was betrothed to another and she was soon to marry the Chief.

The day moved slowly as she carried on with her chores, not even saying a farewell to her family.

She awoke early the next morning. The sky had lightened, but the river was still angry.

She walked to the river, accepting its anger, and asking for its blessings. “Please show me where my future lies. I cannot marry leather face.”

A rustle of leaves caught her attention and she turned in time to spy a young deer drinking from the same river.

“Little deer. Are you here to guide me?”

A crack, like that of a tree breaking when the light from the sky reached its arm out, went off around her. The little deer fell forward; its blood rushing into the fury of the river.

Little Snake wailed as its head thrashed in the reeds and its hind legs, numbed from the wound, lay stiffly behind it. The little deer’s body breathed harshly, its eyes wild.

Little Snake went to it and laid her hand on its neck. She smoothed the skin and whispered softly, and the deer calmed.

As she unsheathed her knife, she smelled the presence of a man; his scent so strong and vile, her eyes were watering.

Quickly, she sliced the deer’s throat, allowing it to die with dignity and releasing its spirit to the world and giving it the freedom to run.

“That’s my deer Injun.”

Little Snake jumped up and moved away from the deer.

“Now you just stay back and I’ll take my supper with me.”

He had the stick that had killed her father’s brother. They had called it gun. It had put a hole in Grey Eagle and his spirit fled so quickly, she could only pray it would find its way to the Hunting Grounds.

She watched as he held it up to his shoulder. She wiped the blood on the grass and put her knife back into its sheath, then began to back away.

The man watched. He didn’t move. She turned and swiftly ran through the woods.

Her eyes filled with tears, and her breath was long gone when she stopped, realizing she had gone away from their village and not toward it.

She heard the twigs before she saw Bill-lee. He came from the trees in a shadow.

It had been a full moon since she had seen him, yet her heart jumped at the sight of him.

“Bill-lee.”

She reached for his face and he eagerly pulled her forward and kissed her.

“If I could talk to you, I would tell you I came back again to see you. Hoping you was here.”

“Bill-lee.” She whispered as she pulled him close. “I want to know what you say.”

The sound of a screech owl caught her attention and she ran.

The chief awaited her. She knelt in front of him as he spoke. “On the morrow, Little Snake will become my wife.”

The women cheered and sneered. The men danced and sang. Little Snake cried.

Billie had followed her. He watched from the trees on the small hill that hid the village. It was nestled in a valley, mountains all around, the river so close he could smell it.

Billie looked at the valley. “I want to live here someday.” He thought, as he continued to watch Little Snake.

She carried a plate of food to the old man and bent in front of him. He touched her hair.

Billie felt jealousy. Was he her father? Her grandfather? He was someone, but he wanted it to be he that she was feeding.

The man patted the ground beside him and said something, his voice guttural and loud. It echoed through the hills.

The girl sat beside him but kept her eyes lowered. Her shoulders slumped and Billie could read her sadness and anger in her movements.

The man he had been hunting with whistled shrilly and he moved away to follow the sound.

“Lookee I got. It was tryin to git away and a dammed injun girl went and slit its throat. Gonna take it from me, but I put my gun up and she done took off. Ain’t never seen a girl run like that.” He was laughing. His teeth were yellowed and rotted, and what was left was mottled with dark stains from the tobacco he chewed. His mustache was dirty and stank of blood and sweat.

Billie swore under his breath, wishing he could have had someone else follow him hunting. This man was disgusting, and Billie wondered if he could sleep another night with this man snoring not less than ten feet from him.

He looked at the grizzled old man that was a full head shorter than he, and walked away.

“Don’t understand ya youngun. Ya’d think ya’d wanna go see them Injuns. Maybe get a little piece o’ one.”

He laughed and came closer; his stench made Billie gag.

“That purty little one that done slit the deer’s throat, now she’d make a fine one to bed. Get yer stick wet and maybe ya would relax a bit.”

He eyed him up. “Or aint ya old nuf to know what to do with it yet?” He laughed at himself and Billie continued walking away.

Chapter 5

The moon appeared in the sky for the second time since her father had left this land for the pirit land

Little Snake donned the wedding dress her mother had made for her. Morning Dove helped her to put on her head dress. “You will make a fine wife.”

She touched her breasts. “A child will suckle and grow big with the milk you can hold.”

Little Snake backed up when she reached down and touched between her legs. “Strong hips that will keep the chief happy and a belly that will grow with many a child.”

Her nose wrinkled, as her body was prodded by Morning Dove.

“The others will touch you. They will make sure you know how to please the chief. And should you become with child soon, you will be treasured.”

Little Snake swallowed hard and her legs began to move. She darted past Morning Dove and ran to the river.

The sky was dark. The clouds rolled by quickly, each one larger than the next. The moisture in them was palpable, and she could feel it on her cheeks and taste it on her lips.

“Bill-lee.” She cried to the river.

A hand touched her shoulder and she turned, expecting to see Morning Dove.

Her face lit into a smile. “Bill-lee.” His kiss commanded her and she was being pulled to the ground. The thunder was unnoticed as she was carried away by the feel of his hands and his lips.

She lay motionless in the grass. Her skirt was pushed up to her waist. The rawhide ties that held the bodice shut, had been undone and her breasts were free. She froze as she realized what had happened. She cried.

“Hush, little one. It’s okay.” Tears were on Billie’s cheeks.

“I do not understand you. But I feel your words are true and you feel as I do.”

“I want to tell you how I feel, but you wouldn’t understand.”

A loud voice echoed through the hills and Little Snake stiffened. She was being looked for her.

She tried to rearrange her disheveled state, and with gentle fingers, Billie helped her. He brushed the dirt from her skirt and helped to tie the strings.

Sensing her fear, he kissed her and took off into the woods. “I’ll return.”

The music was loud. The dancing continued into the night even though the sky tears fell. Throughout the night, the rain came steadily and its fury increased. The stinging was making her skin hurt and she wanted it all to stop.

Her tears mingled with the rain and went unnoticed. The chief reached for her and she bowed her head. He stood and pulled her behind him into the hut.

Revulsion spread through her as she felt his hands on her ties. “Take it off.”

For the first time she looked at him as she pulled her dress up over her body and stood before him naked.

He lifted her breast in his head and grunted his satisfaction at their size. She felt his dirty hands as they pulled at her nether cheeks and spread them wide then pushed them together. She felt his ragged nail slide between the cheeks and he chuckled when she clenched them tight.

The slap was not expected and she yelped in pain. She rubbed at the cheek he had just assaulted.

Standing her ground, she refused to give in to him, even when he slid his hand down her stomach and glided it to between her legs. “Yes. A fine place to hold my children.”

His other wives joined them and Little Snake felt the need to cover herself to their curious eyes.

The chief nodded to them and both girls removed their robes and stood naked before her.

Morning Dove was the last to enter. She sat beside the chief.

Her eyes squinted because of the smoke that was coming from her corn cob pipe. She passed it to the chief who puffed loudly. The smoke he exhaled was rancid.

Little Snake was embarrassed as Morning Dove signaled the other two girls with her fingers. She didn’t know what those fingers meant, but the point toward her was clear.

The oldest reached over and flicked her breasts with a hard snapping of her fingers, intentionally causing her to flinch, while the other girl grabbed a denuded branch that came from the sassafras tree.

She felt the assault to her nether cheeks as the branch was cruelly splayed against her delicate skin. Teeth sunk into her inner thigh before she could get over the hurt on her bottom.

The branch was brutally brought down across her breasts while she felt another bite to the delicate area that was hidden by her thatch of dark hair.

She stood there as the chief and Morning Dove watched on. Neither moved. It was as though they were in a trance.

Little Snake looked at both of them and felt her first hateful thought. She wanted to kill them. She wanted to watch them writhe in pain before the spirits took pity on them. Then she was going to run.

As she looked, she saw a rise in the chief’s leather. He was enjoying this scene.

The biting and switching continued until night turned into day. Her body ached and whenever her eyes threatened to shut from exhaustion, the assault would become more painful.

When she fell to the ground, Morning Dove clapped her hands and the two girls put on their robes and went to their own side of the hut. “She is a strong one.” She muttered to the chief.

“Come here.” He commanded.

Little Snake pulled her weary body from the floor and moved to his side. She lay on the skin and, while Morning Dove watched, the chief climbed on top of her and placed his flaccid manhood into her aching body. He moved quickly then grunted.

Little Snake cried when she was ushered out of the hut. “You will sleep with the dog tonight. The chief was not pleased with you.”

The sun did not come out the next day. It was ashamed of her. Had she heeded the warning given to her in her dreams she may not be here.

The light slashed the sky and Little Snake sat outside, cold and naked, letting her shame and her injured body be soothed by it.

She could see the bite marks when the light lit up the sky. She could see and feel the welts from the branches that had come down on her tender body more times than she could count, and she could feel the stickiness oozing from inside her, joining with the mud of the puddle she had chosen to relieve herself in.

The women strolled by and spit at her. These were the same women who were so kind when her mother still lived here. The braves laughed.

She huddled in the corner of the yard, close to the dog, trying to find some warmth.

A hand closed over her shoulder and she turned expecting to see one of the women giving her permission to come back inside.

“Bill-lee” He put his hand over her mouth and hushed her with his finger.

She put her hand in his, trusting that he was going to take her someplace safe.

They walked into the woods. When they reached a place next to a clearing, he removed his shirt and wrapped it around her body. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle with salve in it.

Billie held it up to her nose and she smelled the scent of camphor. She smiled and he began to gently rub the salve into her broken skin.

He dabbed it on the bite marks, but kissed them first.

The trees were thick and they were protected from the rain. “I’ve never seen it rain like this before.” He knew she couldn’t understand, but he also knew that the gentle tones of his voice were more important.

“Someone musta really pissed off the spirits here.”

“The spirits are angry. So many bad things have happened over the last two moons.” She said.

She felt the soothing touch go away and his hands pulled her down. He held her tightly, sharing his body warmth with her. When she quit shivering, they slept.

The rain was still coming down when she awoke. Bill-lee was nowhere to be seen. She felt the softness of his shirt on her stiff back and smiled.

She realized the rain was coming down even harder and their safe haven was beginning to get wet.

She gathered up what few things had been scattered and put them in his bag.

“You leaving without me?” Billie was watching her from the trees.

“They will be searching for me. I must go. They will kill you.” Little Snake put her hand on his cheek.

“I won’t let them hurt you.”

“I must go Bill-lee.”

His name was all he understood, but the way she said it, told him all he needed to know. She was scared. He had to take care of her.

They headed toward the village and she looked into his eyes. “I’m not taking you back. My home is past there. We will stay up here, far away from the valley.”

Little Snake stopped. Her eyes were taking in the sight far below. The river had breached its banks. Its water dark and full of blood. It was flowing through their village.

He pulled her from the sight and they continued on.

Little Snake looked at the moss on the trees. “We head north. My mother is in a village to the north.”

“There is a small settlement not far from where I live. They are peaceful and my family often trades with them. You can stay there if you wish. It will be safe.”

She nodded. He saw excitement in her eyes. The rain stopped, and as quickly as the clouds could part, the sun made the earth warm again.

The ground was soggy and muddy. It took most of the afternoon to find a dry place for them to lie.

While he built a small bed from sticks and a few dry branches he could find, Little Snake caught a rabbit.

She had started a fire with the flint she found in his bag and had skinned the rabbit with his knife and was cooking it over the fire when he returned.

He smiled and laughed. “Now that’s a woman.”

She cut pieces of the meat off as they cooked and handed them to him. He reached for it and she pulled it back.

She remembered her mother playing this game with her father. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that she would allow him to eat.

Billie learned quickly. The third time she smiled and proffered the meat from the knife blade, he happily opened his mouth. He closed his eyes as he enjoyed the succulent taste of the rabbit she had fed him.

“You like it?”

“That is amazing.”

She cocked her head and looked at him. He was smiling as he chewed. “If you could understand…”

Billie pointed to himself then to her. “Billie.”

“Bill-lee” She repeated.

“You are…”

“You are…” She pointed to herself.

“No. Your name?”

She kissed him. This was a language they both knew.

They started on their trip when morning arrived. They had touched each other and kissed.

Her kisses led to his chest and up over his neck and ears. His smell was that of the outdoors and rain, not the acrid nose burning smell of leather face.

His kisses covered her neck and chest. Wherever he could see a bruise or switch mark, he kissed her. He felt himself growing within his pants.

When he touched between her legs, she stiffened her body and closed herself to him.

She backed away like a frightened animal. “I won’t hurt you.”

She shook her head no.

He leaned forward and kissed her again. She responded and he pulled her close, holding her in his arms till the sun made its arrival.

Chapter 6

They reached the northern village by midday.

Billie was greeted by Brave Eagle with a firm handshake. “It is good to see you young Billie.”

Little Snake hung back. When her uncle spied her at the edge of the woods, he waved her forward.

Running Deer came out of the hut. She took in the disheveled appearance, the dirty hair, and purple marks on her body.

She looked at Little Snake and she nodded back. “We will clean you up. You will not return.”

“I cannot return. The angry spirits caused the river to rise and it went through our village.”

“Our people?”

“I do not know. Morning Dove sent me to sleep with the dogs after leather face fell asleep on top of me.”

Her mother put her hand to her lips. “The past is over. We do not talk about it. Let’s move on.”

Little Snake nodded and smiled.

“How did you meet Bill-lee?”

“He was…” How much should she tell her? “hunting when I ran away. He soothed my pain and gave me this shirt to cover my body.”

Her mother’s eyes sparkled as she looked at her. Did she know?

Wordlessly, Running Deer took a robe from the bag and helped Little Snake put it on. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she saw the bites and marks that covered her daughter’s body.

She took her tooth comb and pulled it through her long hair, carefully braiding it and tied it with a string of hide.

She patted her bottom and shooed her outside.

Brave Eagle turned and smiled at her mother. The children ran to Little Snake and welcomed her home. Brave Eagle pulled her close. “Welcome Little Snake.”

Billie watched.

He spoke to Brave Eagle who had learned the language of the white man many years ago.

His mother had been raped then murdered by a renegade. The white man Billie knew as his father came across him as he sat by his mother and cried.

William raised him as a son for six summers. Then he married his wife, Nora, who didn’t like the idea of an Indian living in her home.

Brave Eagle left graciously, thankful for Williams home, but he was a man now and able to take care of himself.

Williams’s wife died in childbirth when young Billie was born. They walked as brothers most days. Sometimes they fought like brothers.

When William became sick, Billie went to live with Brave Eagle for a year. Just last year he had moved back into his own home.

Her mother had heard the story. “He is a brave warrior. A fine hunter and a gentle man.” Her mother whispered in her ear.

“Little Snake…”

She heard her name and looked at Brave Eagle. “Billie wanted to know your name.” He told her in her tongue.

She walked over to Billie and touched his face. “Bill-lee.”

She pointed to herself and looked at her uncle. He translated her name to the white man’s language. “Little Snake.”

“He says he is pleased to meet you. He loves you.”

Little Snakes cheeks flamed with fire. Her mother was laughing and the children hid their laughter behind their hands.

“And I love you.” When her uncle once again translated, Billie grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. “How long do you reckon a man needs to wait before he can marry, Brave Eagle?”

“She is young, young William. You must take your time.”

Little Snake heard her mother and uncle speaking that night. “Will she go with you?”

“No. I think it would be better if she were to stay with you.”

“What will you do if our people survived?”

“I will let Big Water float in his own waist and he can take Morning Dove down with him. I may even put some rocks in his bag to help his journey.”

He grinned. “The others, I will bring home with me if they want to come. If not, young William and I will help them to rebuild, but higher up away from the reminder of destruction. They need homes.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“One, maybe two moons. No longer than I must.”

He patted her burgeoning belly. “I will be home in time to welcome the child. It will be taken care as if it were mine. I promise.”

Chapter 7

The long days were becoming shorter. Another summer had passed and winter was ready to take its place.

Billie and Brave Eagle had not returned.

Little Snake awoke with a burning taste in her mouth. She jumped up and ran outside, barely able to keep her stomach from spilling its content inside the hut.

Running Deer heard her run out and followed. “You have been here for near two moons. The child will be born when the sun goes high again and the days are getting long.

Little Snake looked up at her mother.

“No. I can’t be with child.”

“There has been no woman’s curse upon you since you came here.”

Little Snake shook her head.

“You have eaten little, yet your middle is beginning to thicken.”

She put her hands to the lightly rounded belly and rubbed. “I have a child here?”

“I am fearful that it is so,” Her mother smiled and hugged her. “But the child will be healthy.”

“But…”

“Did the chief not mount you?”

Little Snake thought back to the humiliating night. He had watched her be brutalized and his manhood growing steadily. He made her stand naked before him and Morning Dove as they bit her in her most private of areas poked her and slapped her with a branch.

“Yes.”

“Then it is possible. It is true.”

Her mother continued to make a break fast for her children.

“Do you worry mother?”

She turned to her daughter. “Worry?”

“Brave Eagle has not returned and the child is nearly ready to greet the world.”

“If the spirits guide him to us, he will be home. They will lead them both home to us.”

She knew how her mother cried at night when she believed everyone was sleeping. She would lie awake and watch as her mother smoothed the bedroll she shared with her husband and crooned to the child of the father he may never know.

What of her child. She touched her still flat belly. “Will my child ever know its father?”

She could not shed the tears that were threatening.

Billie and Brave Eagle continued their journey south. They had already been on the path for a full day and wanted to reach the south before the following day ended. “No camp tonight, young William.”

“I’m good. I can make it. I traveled this path several times in the past.”

Brave Eagle raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I was with the hunter once.”

“Once is not several.” Brave Eagle tousled his hair and laughed. “Did you find a fine filly to dip your wick?”

Billie got angry. “She is not a filly. And I did not ‘dip my wick’.”

“Ahhhh. Is it maybe my young step daughter that caught your fancy?” He smiled. “And maybe that is why you knew exactly when to come to her rescue. Maybe you were spying on her.”

Billie didn’t say anything.

“Silence speaks many words, my adopted brother.”

When they reached the edge of the southern woods, Brave Eagle held up a hand of silence. There were voices floating to him from the valley.

“They are close.”

They slunk down beneath the bushes and watched as three sets of feet went by them.

Brave Eagle silently circled around behind the bush and came out in front of them. “Where is your village?”

The man looked at him. “Are you not Brave Eagle? Brother of Big Bear?”

He stared at them.

“We are from the village where Big Bear and his family called home.”

He continued to stare.

“I am Swift Horse.” He held out his arm in greeting and dropped it when Big Bear showed no sign of acknowledgement.

The stoic expression left Swift Horse in a frenzy and his words flowed swiftly as his name.

“This is my family. The angry river swept our hut away. He swept away many huts. Many of our people went with them while they lay on their mats. The river took out his revenge on us while we slept.”

“The river cleansed your village?”

“It destroyed our village. Someone brought shame and darkness to our village and the river took out its vengeance on us all.”

“Who could make the spirit of the river so angry?”

“Big Bear’s daughter. Wife of Chief Big Waters. She stole away in the night.”

Brave Eagles’ jaw tightened, silencing him.

“She will pay for the deaths as they paid for her shame.” Swift Horse went on.

“No!” He spat the word out.

His body was warring with its calm exterior. Only the tightening of his muscles belied the urge to strike down this man and leave his family to bury him in disgrace.

He looked from Swift Horse to his family. They were three young children. He was not going to send them to a fate that could cause their death.

He backed up into the woods and silently disappeared. Swift Horse herded his small family and continued on their journey to the north.

The two men stood on the knoll looking down at what had once been a small but thriving village.

Sadness washed over Brave Eagle as he thought of the children and the women. Were they able to escape?

The grass lay on its side, yellowed from the sun drying out its dead and dying carcasses.

Huts had either been washed away or were level with the ground.

A few horses that had probably escaped when the water came up were now peacefully grazing on the grass higher on the hill.

They approached with respect for the spirits of the people. Brave Eagle would point to a body, or the sign of hope, as he and Billie walked through the ravaged settlement.

A litter was made of branches and pine boughs, and the bodies were piled on it. Most were now shells of bodies, or bones that had been picked clean by animals, but all were respected.

Billie held his nose as he passed a distended bellied person, lying on its side. He extended his foot to roll it over and Brave Eagle stopped him.

He nodded and bent over the body. The eyes were wide, the face was bloated and the skin was peeling away, but he recognized the lifeless eyes of Morning Dove. “She stays.”

Billie looked at him and then at the body, shrugged and continued walking, searching beneath bushes, and the sides of the river, with Brave Eagle.

A grizzled shock of white hair stuck up from piles of branches that had been ripped from the cedar trees as the fury of the river swept over them.

Brave Eagle lifted the branches and peered underneath. He looked up at Billie, urging him, without words, to look. There lay the body of Chief Big Waters.

“How poetic. He succumbed to the same thing in nature that gave him his name.”

Brave Eagle looked at him, a rare smile, barely noticeable on his face.

“What do we do?”

“We leave him, also.” Billie stated and kicked the body.

“Good.”

But for Morning Dove and Big Waters, a total of 23 women and children and 12 men were loaded onto the litter over the next week. They walked the two day trip, each holding a handle of the soon to be pyre, dragging it behind them.

Their sweat flowed freely as the sun burned their skin, making frequent stops necessary. “I am not young anymore.” Brave Eagle wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm.

Billie nodded and continued dragging their heavy load.

“We will reach the burial grounds by sun set tomorrow.” Brave Eagle stated.

Billie said a silent prayer of thanks.

The sun went down. The men carefully covered the bodies with branches to help keep hungry animals from dragging one away, and further disrespecting the dead.

“They have fed our friends, the bear and the fox, well. Their lives were not wasted.” Brave Eagle was sitting in front of a fire, turning a spit laden with chicken he had found running around in the woods behind the extinct village. The smell of ground onions and roasting chestnuts from their sacks, made their mouths water.

He slid down onto his thatch bed roll and rubbed his full stomach. “Sleep. There is a long day ahead of us.”

Billie rolled his tired shoulders. The ache that he was feeling had him dreading another day of dragging the hand made stretcher. Tears filled his eyes as he thought of the children that lay there. The women and men had lived a life, even if short, but many of the children were but babies.

“They will find their peace, young William. Sleep.”

Billie moved down onto his blanket and tried to sleep.

His dreams were many. He heard the screams of the children coming from the bushes. The women’s voices were soothing, telling them they were safe.

Little Snake came to him. His dream so real, he could almost reach out and touch her as she smoothed his hair and whispered words he didn’t understand.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, at the same time looking around at the strange surroundings. His manhood was hard and throbbing and he remembered her touching him and her hand rubbing him.

He groaned and ran to the wooded area to relieve himself. With his head against the rough bark of an old oak, he steadied his breathing and willed his body to return to its predream state.

Branches snapped beneath Brave Eagles feet; his noise deliberate to allow Billie the privacy of composing himself. He too missed the touch of a woman. His dreams haunted him of the passion he desired in the arms of Running Deer.

They reached the burial grounds and Brave Eagle gave a grunt of satisfaction.

They spent the following week, digging shallow graves, saying prayers and laying the bodies in their final resting place before their journey to the spirit world.

When the final body was blessed and prayed over, Brave Eagle slapped Billie on the shoulder.

“You have made me proud, young William. Only a man would have done the job you have done and not complain.”

Billie smiled. A compliment from Brave Eagle was the best he could ask for.

“Come.”

They started their walk back to the village, where they would spend the next week looking for signs of life.

It had been a full moon since the men had left the north village. Little Snakes’ belly was rounded and the baby’s presence was visible.

Running Deer walked up and laid her hand on her daughter. “It will be a fine, and healthy daughter.”

Little Snake looked up at her in question. “She talked to me in the night.”

She smiled at her mother and went back to grinding the corn for mush. “She does not belong to the chief.” Her mother stated quietly.

This time Little Snakes’ head snapped up. Her eyes were dark with apprehension. “How could she know?” She thought.

“Does Bill-lee know?”

“He does not.” Her face looked sad. “I did not want to be with child. But I am glad that it is Bill-lee’s. I would not want a child suckling on me if it belonged to leather face. He is evil.”

“He was our chief.”

“I would not mourn if he is dead.”

“Nor I.” Her mother stated flatly.

“Will they be home soon?”

Running Deer put her hand on her own burgeoning belly and remained silent. “It may be soon till the little one decides to make his appearance. I do not know.”

Billie looked around the village. There was little left to define the proud people that had lived here. Broken pottery that had managed to not be swept away, a metal pot they had traded their furs for, and pieces of robes and hut hanging in the trees, was all that remained.

His lungs burned from the stench of the river remains. The smell of death strong in the mud they stood in. He began to cough, a racking sound that seemed as if it could pull his lungs from within his body.

Brave Eagle pushed him on through the destruction. “We will move forward to find a place to make our camp. We cannot stay here. It will take our life spirit.”

Billie followed. His eyes were watering and he could feel his head burning.

Brave Eagle stopped about a mile from the village. The clearing was wide, but hidden by heavy pine trees with their branches low and sweeping the ground. “We will be protected from the wind.”

They pulled their rolls from their back and sat down next to a tall oak. Billie’s head lolled back against the tree.

He felt his body begin to shake and looked around, thinking maybe it was earth rumbling beneath them, and realized it was coming from within.

“Too much sun.” He mumbled.

His voice sounded thick in his ears. It hurt to talk. His shaking turned into shivers.

“You are sick.”

“I am fine. I just need to rest.”

Brave Eagle placed his hand on Billie’s forehead and grunted.

He pulled one of the shirts from Billie’s backpack and walked in the direction of the river.

Billie watched for a few second, and then slumped over. He was too tired. His eyes closed.

He awoke to the feel of wetness on his head. It was cold and willing him to come out of his sleep. He refused.

“Young William. You must wake.”

Billie opened his eyes and went back to sleep.

Brave Eagle sang to the sky spirit, asking them to make Billie well. He walked to the river whenever the water became too warm to bring down the fever, and brought back fresh cool water.

He carried Billie to the cleanest part of the river and laid him in the cool water, remembering his mother saying how it would bring out the poison that brought about the sickness. He continued to chant the prayers and worried not just for Billie, but for Little Snake who waited for him, for Running Deer who awaited his return, and for the child he may never see if young William succumbed and he himself took on the sickness.

Exhausted from his vigilance, he fell into a deep sleep once he had wrapped all the robes around his white brother...

Running Deer stood over him. She was pushing his hair from his brow and speaking in soothing sounds. Her rounded breasts were close to his face and he inhaled the scent of milk that was emitted from them as they began to fill with the nourishment for the soon to be born child.

His brow knitted as he tried to understand her words. What was she trying to tell him?

Her image was fading into a writhing mess of worms. They squirmed and wriggled into her belly and were coming out of her mouth. Her eyes were open; her mouth in a silent scream and her lifeless body lay on the ground. He could hear the screams and feel the pain she had endured.

Little Snake lay in a pool of blood. Her breathing was barely discernible, but she was breathing. Her form lay motionless and he could hear the men laughing in the background.

The voice floated to him and it sounded like the voice of the man they had passed over a moon ago.

He was dancing around a fire, and laughing with the filthy hunters that often came to the camp and wanted to trade for food or whiskey. Their furs were dirty and not well cured. Running Deer had refused to barter.

“Swift Horse, you mangy Injun. You done killed yerself a woman.”

They laughed as Swift Horse stood, unbalanced from the consumption of whiskey, falling down when he danced and being a fool.

“Did ya get a piece of that? Hope you dipped into her good.”

Swift Horse made a lewd gesture at his crotch, relaying to them that he had raped the woman before cutting out her child and killing her.

He held up the scalp lock he had tied to his belt. They laughed again and he laughed with them.

Brave Eagle awoke from his nightmarish vision and heard Billie moaning. He was talking to him. “I need water.”

It was just a dream. He had to hear Billie’s voice to know that it had just been a dream. It was not real, but just a dream.

It took another week for Billie to gain enough strength for them to continue with their mission. It was now going on two moons since they had left.

He had gathered tools from the village remains. He had fashioned another stretcher from the skin of a deer he had killed for food, and the boughs of a tree. It was filled with the remains of the village.

Three young children sat on the skin looking at Billie when he woke up. He stared back.

“They are orphans.” He told Billie when he realized he was awake.

He used a ladle he had found and trickled water in-between Billie’s cracked lips. “How long have I been sleeping?”

He held up his hands, both with their fingers splayed.

“Hours?”

“Days.” He was squatting by the fire, stoking the embers to get it burning hot enough to cook the venison and heat water.

Billie looked over at the two boys and the girl. None of them were more than five or six years old.

“They say there are more.” He pointed to a cave further up on the hill.

“How.”

“Children. A spirit still rooted to this land.”

Billie was already tiring. He lay back on his blanket, flipped the robes off him and went back to sleep.

Several hours later he woke to two of the children rocking him. They were shouting with excitement.

Billie glanced up in time to see the tree branches separate and watched three more children walk into the clearing in front of Brave Eagle.

There were now a total of six children, three boys and three girls; all were between the ages of three and seven. A young woman about the same age as Little Snake followed behind. Her eyes were lowered and she sneered at him when she spotted Billie.

Brave Eagle walked up behind her and pushed her into the circle. “White Dove. Morning Dove’s daughter.”

Billie stared at her. He had seen her somewhere, but his eyes were still too hazy from the fever.

“Cook. Feed the children.” Brave Eagle commanded her.

She spoke a few odd words and they came out in a hiss that made Brave Eagle laugh.

He pushed her harder and she stumbled. His eyes narrowed. “Cook.” He told her.

Billie watched in fascination. He had never known Brave Eagle to be harsh; this was a new side to him.

“She is the chief’s daughter.” He said in answer to Billie’s silent question.

Billie caught a glint of metal from his eye in time to see Brave Eagle wrap his forearm across White Dove’s throat while pulling her arm tight and forcing her to drop the knife.

He slapped her and sent her sprawling onto the ground. “Cook.” He commanded again.

She pulled herself from the ground, wiping the dirt from her dress and moved to the fire.

The hatred in her eyes was palpable and Billie shivered.

He watched her as she cooked the venison.

Brave Eagle sat beside him. “It is good to see you feeling better.”

“It is good to feel better.” He looked a little closer and turned to Brave Eagle. “That is Little Snake’s wedding dress. It’s a little dirtier, but it is hers.”

Brave Eagle looked at him, stood and walked over to the girl. He uttered a series of guttural sounding words to her and she raised her arm to him.

He grabbed her and turned her around in front of him. “If you want to live the night, you will tell me where you got the dress.”

She spit in his face. Once again she found herself on the ground, but this time the slap split her lip.

“A gift from the chief.”

“Will it be safe to eat?” Billie nodded at the food she was finally preparing.

“If she wants to live.” Billie shivered at the serious tone of voice.

“You would kill her.”

Brave Eagle looked from Billie to White Dove. “Yes!”

Three days later they entered the camp. No women ran to greet them.

Brave Eagle ran into the hut. It was empty.

“Where are the children? Running Deer? Little Snake?” The fear on Billie’s face matched that which was in Brave Eagle heart.

They ran to the store, the children following behind. The old man who ran the store sat behind the counter. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes when he recognized Billie and Brave Eagle. “Where are they?”

He looked up at Billie. “Gone. All of them. Gone.”

“What do you mean gone?”

“Dead. They’s all dead.”

Billie grabbed his shirt front and yanked him up off the stool. His face was so close he could smell the fear on the old man’s breath.

“An injun. They called him…”

“Swift Horse.” Brave Eagle added.

He grabbed a gun from the counter and threw it at Billie. “Watch the kids Mr. Taylor.”

“Gone. They’s all gone.” He repeated.

“Watch the kids.” Billie yelled at him.

A rotund woman came from the back of the building. It was Mrs. Taylor, the owner’s wife. “Wait.” She yelled to the two men.

They stopped and turned. She motioned them to the back of the cabin. Lying on the small bed was a crying bundle of red. Her lungs were being so well exercised Billie wondered at why they hadn’t heard her.

Brave Eagle picked her up. “She is mine.”

He looked at Mrs. Taylor. “They cut her out before they murdered your wife and the children. Left her little body lying in the blood. I was goin to bury her with her ma, but she was still breathin. Such a tiny thing, but with a will to live. I got her healthy again.”

Brave Eagle sat in the rocker with the little child wrapped in his arms. He stared in wonderment and started to chant, startling another wail from the baby.

“They die.”

He handed the child back to the old woman. “I will be back.”

Billie stopped him. “Where is Little Snake?”

“They scalped the girl and drug her with them. She’s with child. Don’t think she’ll last much longer, not from the amount of blood she was losin’”

“They will die!” Billie walked out with Brave Eagle.

He shoved White Dove into the building. “She will tend the children. All but mine. If she touches her, kill her. If she doesn’t take care of the children kill her.”

“But…”

Brave Eagle narrowed his eyes at the woman.

“I’ll kill her.” Her husband had walked up behind Brave Eagle.

He gave a stiff nod to him and walked out of the building.

Chapter 8

Brave Eagle kept imagining the horror his wife must have felt. The feel of them slicing her belly, pulling out the child and throwing it down into her shed blood. How she must have fought.

Did they leave her alive while they scalped her daughter? Did she have to watch them kill her children? Was she herself dying as she watched the senseless killing of those she loved?

He stopped the horse he had taken from the old man, and slid down from the saddle. He stood outside the hut that was their home in a life he no longer cared about.

Pulling a piece of flint from his pocket, he went inside and brought out all the dry wood and oiled skins he could grab up and threw them right inside the open door. He set fire to them and watched as the flames grew, licking at the outside of the door, and the smoke begin to spew forth from the windows.

When he was satisfied the hut would soon be engulfed, he crawled back onto the horse’s back and kicked its haunches. Both he and the horse sped off toward where the man had said Swift Horse and the hunters had gone. Billie was right behind him.

They were hell bent on vengeance.

The men had wrapped a cloth around her head and drug her along with them. The blood had quit running but the pain still caused her eyes to ache. The cloth just made it worse.

She felt a kick to her side when she stopped; afraid she would pass out from the pain, and breathed deep. The nausea had started to overcome her.

Little Snake bent over the pot with the stew. The steam made the open scalp hurt more. She could feel the baby, but was thankful they didn’t know she was with child.

She thought of her mother.

The men had ridden into camp shortly after dawn. She recognized one of the men as the hunter that had been with Bill-lee. He knew she was the one who had slit the throat of the deer.

She recognized Swift Horse. She also recognized they had all been drinking too much whiskey.

Trying not to attract attention, she continued working with the hides. Her mother came out the door, calling for the other children.

“Well, well, well. Whatta we got us here? If it ain’t a injun with a injun in her.”

They all laughed as if it had been the funniest thing they had ever seen or heard.

The man walked up and poked her mother in the stomach.

Swift Horse walked over and yanked Little Snake up by her hair. He held the braids up in the air forcing her to stand on tiptoe.

One of the men said something to the other two who grabbed her mother by the arms. She could see her mother strain to get away and one of them punched her in the stomach and the other one grabbed her head, pulled it around and brutally kissed her.

Little Snake could see the dirty hands grabbing at Running Deer’s breasts before he grabbed the dress and ripped it from her.

Swift Horse was watching and laughing, but brought his attention back to her. He laid his knife to her throat. “You will stand still or I will slice your throat.”

He pulled the leather from her braids and tied it around her wrists, pulling them tight behind her back. He pushed her to her knees and tied her hands to her feet. “You brought evil to our village when you disrespected our chief. The spirit of many of our people will not rest while you live.

He pulled her braids high and sliced them off, taking her scalp with it. He yelled a war cry, flinging her hair in the air.

She heard her mother scream as the scalp was taken, and looked up to see her slump forward.

The children came running from all direction when they heard her scream. They chased them down and slit each of their throats. Laughing as they did it.

Her mother lay on the ground, unable to move, as she watched each of her children being brutally murdered. She prayed for death.

They were laughing and singing, drinking from the whiskey bottle. They poured the remainder of the whiskey over Little Snake’s bleeding skull and laughed as she screamed and writhed, unable to move with the lacings holding her hands and feet.

Running Deer began to crawl on her hands and knees to her daughter’s side. One of the men kicked her, picking her up off the ground and sent her back two feet. “Din’t git far. Did ya injun?” He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “Perty little thing.”

He shook his head. “Too bad she so fat.” He laughed again as he pulled his knife from his belt. The two men who had held her now stood one at her head and one at her feet.

They held her down as the man with the knife sliced through her belly and pulled the baby out. “Look boys. We got us selfs another injun girl. He threw the baby down beside Running Deer. The blood covered her innocent little body.

The men took their turns spilling their seeds into the dying body of her mother, and then threw her body into the fire while she still had breath left in her.

Little Snake’s tears couldn’t come. She was consumed with the thought of living. She would get revenge for her mother, for the child they had thrown away, and for her brothers and sisters.

She swore she would see each of them dead. She glared at the men as she thought of their evil.

“I think the little injun is trying to curse us with them eyes.” He told the other men.

Swift Horse was drunk and wobbling around the cabin. “Where is your wife? Your children?” She asked in their tongue.

He ignored her. One of the men got up and slapped her.

“They will suffer by their hands as has my family.” She spit in his food before laying it in front of him.

He looked from the men to her. “Friends!” He told her in their language.

She smiled at him and he shivered. Holding up two fingers in the way of a curse, she turned to him. “Not as swiftly.” She mumbled as she moved away.

Swift Horse got up and kicked her from behind, laughing as she fell onto the floor.

*

The blood hadn’t been dry when they rode from the hut. Both men rode forward, seeking revenge for their women and children.

Brave Eagle sang loudly as they rode, a haunting sound that Billie had never heard.

I dreamed of this. He thought. I knew what was happening. He looked to the sky. Was the vision sent to me in warning? Was it trying to show me what would happen if I didn’t soon return? Or, was it trying to tell me something else. “Why did you show me?” He wailed.

Billie understood his anger and loss. Maybe he hadn’t yet lost Little Snake, however. He had to find out or die trying.

They made their way through the hills. The mountains were their home; they knew how to travel them. By nightfall they had reached the cabin.

Billie hunkered down by a hollowed out tree and Brave Eagle circled the camp, looking for a sign of Little Snake and taking notice of all windows and doors. He noted the terrain and what hiding spots the men may have close when they tried to leave. He returned to Billie.

Pointing out the cabin and its exits; he drew in the dirt. The ground was laid out to Billie’s eyes. The plan was in action.

They rested that night. Taking turns watching the small cabin for movement. Billie held his breath till he caught the silhouette that could only be Little Snake. His finger itched to shoot at anything that moved once he located her.

Brave Eagle nodded to him and he nodded back. Yes. He had seen her. She was alive.

Morning was coming slowly that day. Their anxiety had reached the point where if they didn’t kill the men soon, they would be attacking each other. Only their mutual respect was keeping their tempers at bay.

“I will cover the back. You shoot at anyone who comes out.”

“What if it’s Little Snake?”

“She will be safe. I promise.”

During his watch, Brave Eagle had snuck down to the cabin. He had seen a patch of dirt outside the back of the cabin where, when the men were tired of her, he watched as she was kicked out then tethered to the fencing like an animal. Her hands were tied behind her back and the rope was only long enough for her to lie.

He tapped her and was surprised when he realized she had gotten her hands undone and she was now pulling a long knife from beneath her skirt and pointing it beneath his chin.

His finger to his lips, he shushed her and led her away from the cabin.

She had been tucked into the tree not ten feet from Billie, but it was safer if he didn’t know where she was. He would be trying to watch her and maybe make a mistake that would get himself or Brave Eagle killed.

Brave Eagle lit fire to the dried wood that was at the back of the house, and then stepped back into the shadows.

He watched as the men woke up and smelled smoke. They were hung over and groggy, unable to move swift enough to avoid their fate.

Brave Eagle killed the first one as he came out to put out the fire. He looked him in the eye as his life’s blood poured from him. “Your life for my wife’s, then plunged the knife in deeper and twisted it.” He closed the eyes and threw him onto the fire.

A shot rang out and he knew Billie had killed another.

He turned and missed a hatchet going into his back. His lips curled into an evil smile as he recognized Swift Horse. His fingers dug into the man’s windpipe. “Your death will not come yet Swift Horse. You will first suffer as my wife and children have suffered.”

He hit him on the head with a chunk of wood and drug his limp body to the side of the house.

The last man came out screaming. Brave Eagle threw Swift Horse’s body at him knocking him over. He screamed and shoved the body off him. Brave Eagle pulled him up and looked him in the eye.

“You are the one who killed my wife.”

The man laughed as he pulled a knife from his pocket. Brave Eagle shoved him away right before he could get the knife buried into him. The man landed on the spiked tip of wood that was on top of the fence.

Brave Eagle looked at the man. “Help me.” He held out his hand to the Indian, begging for his help.

“I will help you like you helped my family.” The stake was protruding from the man’s chest and he couldn’t move. “I will leave you alive.” He spit on the man as he walked away, not looking back as he heard the screams.

“Stay back.” He yelled when he saw Little Snake run forward. He started to grab her hand when she reached down and picked up the kerosene.

She spit on the man and threw the kerosene on him. The flames were beginning to come through the wall.

They were a quarter mile down the road when they heard the terrifying screams of the man. Billie and Brave Eagle looked at each other and nodded. Little Snake passed out.

Chapter 9

The two men walked into the north village, each with an arm around the young Little Snake.

The figure of a proud Indian woman came around the corner of the store to meet them. Brave Eagle stood still, looking at her.

Swift Horse had a rope tied around his neck, his hands were bound, and he was being drug behind the horse Little Snake rode on.

“I am Pony Woman. Wife of Swift Horse.”

Brave Eagle stepped aside to let her pass. She turned and looked at him. “Did you kill him?”

“No.”

“Good.” She walked outside. Her head was held high and proud as she walked up to her husband and spit in his face.

“Now you kill him!”

She walked away and didn’t look back. Both Brave Eagle and Billie watched her, their faces full of admiration.

They hung Swift Horse that afternoon, while the sun was high in the sky. They covered his face, so his spirit couldn’t escape him. His wife and sons watched.

“He was a man without honor.” Pony Woman stated as she walked past them.

Brave Eagle grabbed her arm. “I need a woman to tend to my child.”

She nodded. “I will honor you.” She gathered her sons and walked to the cabin they had already begun to build. It would be the new home for Brave Eagle, his daughter, and the boys. Pony Woman would sleep outside until she was asked to join them inside.

Billie watched and waited till he could talk to Brave Eagle. “You just lost your wife.”

“The past will not be spoken of. That is our custom. My daughter needs a mother and those boys need a man. I will honor my wife and children, by giving my daughter a home full of laughter.”

It was the most Billie had ever heard him speak.

Little Snake wept for her family. She wept for the loss her step father had endured. She felt the movement in her stomach.

She grabbed Billie’s hand and put it onto her stomach. Her belly had gone unnoticed amidst the melee. Billie’s eyes grew wide with wonder as he felt the flutters beneath his hand. “Is it mine?”

She nodded. Over the three months they had been gone; her mother had coached her in the English tongue. She spoke little, but was a fast learner and understood most. She would learn the language quickly.

“Ours.” She said quietly. Billie leaned forward and hugged her close.

“I don’t know how to be a father, but I’ll try.”

“Husband.” She smiled at him as the baby kicked his hand again.

“Wife.” He looked to the sky and shouted at the top of his lungs.

Chapter 10

Brave Eagle sat outside the hut Pony Woman and her sons had built. For two moon he had tried to sleep there. The ghosts haunted him every night.

Billie came from his own house and sat beside him. “Again you stay awake?”

Brave Eagle looked at him, but did not move.

“Maybe we need a change of scenery. A place where the memories are not so strong as here.” He looked down at the ground and spit. “Little Snake has the nightmares, also. She screams for her mother and brothers.” He touched Brave Eagle’s arm. “We must move on. It is the past.”

Brave Eagle looked at him, his eyes staring deep into Billie’s and recognized his own words. He nodded. “We leave in three days.”

“Where we going?”

“The land of the five mountains. It is close to the Sacred Grounds. We will be safe. We will have many spirits to watch over us. We will be away from the nightmares.”

The path to the land of five mountains was treacherous.

A storm had gone through that ripped trees out by the roots and washed whole paths down the mountains.

“It is a sign.” Brave Eagle muttered.

He kept looking at the sky as they made their way across the mountain.

Their band of people included Pony Woman, her three sons, Billie, a now very pregnant Little Snake and Brave Eagle.

They spent many nights sleeping beneath the pine needles to shield them from the early rainy season. The wind would pick up out of the calm and throw dirt in their faces. The cold rain hit their bare skin like ice pellets of the short days.

Billie sat by the fire, keeping it burning to ease the aching back Little Snake had developed throughout the day.

Pony Woman glanced over at Brave Eagle. She was now sharing his bed roll. “The child will be born soon.”

He looked over at the worry on Billie’s face. “It is too soon.”

“The child does not know the time.”

“We will be there on the morrow.” He obstinately stated.

“You are a fair man. A brave warrior. You have no fear. She is still but a child.”

His heart pounded with fear for her, but he refused to give in. “We will be there on the morrow.”

As they slept, he and Billie fashioned a sling. If Little Snake were to go into labor they would share the load and get her to their new home before the babe was born. The babe would be born in peace.

Little Snake awoke with a moan. Her hand went to her back and she ran behind a tree to release the bile that rose into her mouth.

She squatted to relieve herself and bit her hand to keep from crying out. The blood that flowed once a moon was once again showing. She ripped off a piece of the under dress the nice lady at the store had given her and slid it between her thighs.

Pony Woman looked at her. Her face was pale and her breathing heavy. “You are having the child.”

Little Snake glanced over at her and ignored her words.

“You must tell them. We must stop.”

She shook her head and kept walking.

A pain ripped through her body causing her to drop to her knees as she stumbled. Pony Woman pulled her up and hissed. “I will tell them.”

Little Snake pulled out her knife and held it to Pony Woman’s heart. “You won’t.”

Pony Woman walked away and headed to her husband. She whispered to him and he halted the small caravan.

He moved close to Billie. “We will be there in one hour.”

He looked back at Little Snake who had squared her shoulders and was staring straight ahead. She gave a terse nod. “We move on.”

Brave Eagle nodded. “She is brave. You are brave.”

True to his word, they arrived within an hour.

The land was green. They looked down on the river with the tall mountain above it. In every direction was another mountain. Billie counted five of them.

“The valley with five mountains.” Pony Woman said in awe. “I had only heard of such a place.”

The river was peaceful from up here. The wind had stopped blowing, and the sun was drying the wet ground.

Billie walked up to Little Snake who had sat heavily onto the ground. “Build us shelter, Bill-lee.”

He went to Brave Eagle and relayed her message. They gathered the boys and went in search of strong small trees and stone with which to built shelter.

Pony Woman sat beside Little Snake. “Do you still wish to kill me?”

Little Snake hung her head. “No.” She hissed in pain. “I wish to bear this child.”

“You are brave for so young.”

She lay back on the sun warmed ground as Pony Woman lifted her dress, spreading her legs wide. “We must make room for the baby.”

She laid a robe across her legs to keep the sun from injuring the infant when it found its way into the world.

Laying her hand onto Little Snake’s belly she nodded. “It is time.”

Little Snake cried out as she pushed to help the baby. Within minutes a tiny little girl, so small she fit in the palm of their hand, was greeted by a peaceful sky and land. “She has hair like the short day leaves.”

Little Snake looked down at the baby. Hair the color of the lily that adorned the mountainside. Her skin the color of thick cream. She was screaming. Her tiny body shook with her anger at being forced from her warm cocoon. Her fists were clenched. “But she is so small. I have never seen a baby so small. Can she live?”

“She will live. She is early. But, she will live. Her lungs are strong, and she has a good spirit.”

Pony Woman helped Little Snake and showed her how to suckle the child. Within seconds, the little girl was happily feeding from her mother’s breast.

“She will be a good and strong woman. Just like her mother.”

Little Snake smiled up at Pony Woman. “I am a mother.”

Pony Woman nodded and walked away; giving Little Snake a bit of time alone with the little human she had pushed from her body.

“Hello Daisy.” She said in her stilted English.

Billie stood in the shadows and watched her. She had taken to pulling her hair up over the scarred crown of her head. It covered the area where hair would no longer grow, but it didn’t take away from her beauty.

The child was noisily sucking on her breast and Billie walked toward them, mesmerized by the sight he was witnessing.

“Daisy.” The sun was in her smile as she looked at the baby then Billie.

“Daisy it is.”

Chapter 11

The children sat at their great-great grandmother’s feet marveling at her story.

“What happened to the baby, Grandmother?”

“She grew into a strong woman and lived many years.”

“What happened to Little Snake?” A little girl with red pig tails and a blue dress with a white apron over the top looked up at her.

“Little Snake lived for many years. She had strong sons, but only one daughter. She and Billie lived to enjoy many moons together.”

“The land changed as the white man drove out the Indians. They brought their disease with them. They brought firearms. Trading stopped as the white man took over and what few were left, were forced to move away.”

The children looked up at her, waiting for the old woman to continue.

“Many never made it to the new settlements.” She took out her corn cob pipe and squinted as the smoke swirled around her head. “So many were joined with white men and the Indian nations were soon more white. Life changed for everyone.”

A woman came into the room and interrupted the story and all the children groaned. One boy turned around. “Please, grandmother. Just a little longer.”

“Your Granny is tired.”

Grandmother spit into the pot that sat next to her. “It is you who are tired, you old woman.”

“Mother.”

“Be quiet. I am still alive and will tell them when I am tired.”

She looked at the children. Her eyes were now unseeing, but she still made eye contact.

She winked at them. “The old woman feels I am getting tired along with being old. We should respect one of such wisdom. Let’s call this story done for now.”

The youngest child walked over and kissed her weathered cheek. “I love you great-great grandmother.”

She swatted his backside. “Out with you insolent child.”

He smiled at her and pecked her cheek one more time.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Great grandmother died that night. No one really knew how old she was, but it was guessed she was around 95 or maybe older.

Her burial stone had but one name on it when she was laid to rest; ‘Daisy’

Conclusion

When George Washington was involved in the Revolutionary War, it is told that he came across a lost tribe of Indians.

It is also said that he killed many of them.

One name was passed on throughout all the stories; it was an Indian scout by the name of George Washington Jackson Lafayette Lane Weatherwox. He took the names of those he admired, but it is said he was hung as a horse thief by some of those he admired.

This story was based on stories passed down through the generations.

The passing down changed the stories, but it is still alive.

I’ve told my grandchildren and when I discovered bits and pieces of it still existed in history books, I was elated.

May they and their children continue the telling of the story.